


On the Isle of the Lost, they were found

by R_RK



Series: Mated Souls, Sewn Threaded Skins [2]
Category: Descendants (Disney Movies)
Genre: Child Abuse, F/F, I'll be adding tags as i go along, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-07-14 20:38:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16048127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_RK/pseuds/R_RK
Summary: Snippets of tales on the Isle from other perspectives connected with “I got you beneath my skin”. Not really important to the plot or ones I didn't know where to fit.





	1. Rockes Launcher

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing of Descendants.
> 
> Oh writing how i've missed you.

“You know Jay, even if I shortened your name to the first letter, it’d still be the same name,” Mal grunted as she gripped Jay’s arms in a loosening grip.

For such a muscular boy, he was very slippery. He’d give Uma a run for her money. But no way was he as pretty as her.

“And?” he grumbled back, spinning on a heel, making her lose her grip in her surprise.

As she tried to regain her balance, Jay hurried to the small pile of rocks at the edge and, squinting, flung one over the roof.

Mal jumped on him before he could grasp the second, grabbing his neck and pulling him backwards, all while resisting the urge to knock his pile off the ledge like a demented purple cat.

There were no rules on the Isle of the Lost, except a few, but for a game between both of the two competitive thieves some boundaries were needed.

Especially in Rockes Launcher.

So touching or doing anything to affect another’s pile was a no go. At least they had full access to their bags of tricks – not literally because no way did they have enough stuff to fill a bag, plus they had other tricks.

Which she promptly used as she hauled Jay back with all her abnormal strength, but not before his flailing arm caught a pebble and promptly chucked it off.

Mal immediately switched directions, dragging them both to the ledge and looking at the small but deadly projectile as it headed to one of the pirates’ head, who was able to dodge it at the last second.

Her yell and Jay’s groan were the perfect melody to her ears.

“HA! Sucker! You lose a point!” she crowed, though she didn’t let victory distract her, as she knocked Jay off his feet with a sweep of her leg, having seen him lunge for his pile.

It was a rather simple game.

One point for hitting a target.

No points if the shot was short of the target.

Minus one point if target was able to evade the shot.

It would sharpen their fighting, their aim and their sight.

It was both fun, deadly and _bad_. Her favorite type of fun. Mother would approve. Vaguely. Maybe. Not really.

Though they silently agreed to not aim for the head. She was going to put off having a first kill for maybe, uh, _never_. She was sure Jay felt the same.

She grabbed one of her rocks, and just for kicks, set her sight on the pirate Jay missed, made a few adjustments and fired her shot.

She made sure to hold back most of her strength.

But it was still a beautiful shot, and Jay must have agreed because he let out a low whistle from his place on the roof holding on to the ledge, as the rock clipped the pirate so hard on the shoulder, that it turned him around like a messed up ballerina giving them a very much unwanted performance.

“Ooooh,” they chorused together, turning away with a wince as he fell face first on the floor.

“Pause?” Jay offered with a little shrug and a questioning glance.

“Pause.”

They went to the other side of the roof to avoid the tempting impulse to cheat, sitting on the ledge like it was normal. Which it was. All the Isle kids lacked a much needed danger sense.

“How’s the arm?” Mal asked with feigned disinterest, referring to his cut up arms from a while back, like someone raked sharp nails along his skin.

“They went away, like literally the next day. I think I’ve finally cracked,” he said frustrated.

“I saw them too, Jay.”

“Well, we’ve both cracked then.”

Mal just grunted, not sure if she was offended or if he had a good point.

“Still kicked out?” He made sure to avoid eye contact, both keeping up the act of not giving a shit.

She hummed, finally past the hurt and anger she first felt when Mother kicked her out.

_‘I can’t stand the sight of you! Out! OUT! You will come back only when you look more like me than the human wretch that is your father!’_

Past. Not over the feelings. The weakness.

She laid down on the ledge, while Jay swung his legs, trusting him not to push her off.

Although that proved to have no effect, when not even a minute later, she almost fell to her death as a shout startled them both, overcompensating and face planting into the roof, her heart raging against the bars of her ribs.

“JAY! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! RIGHT NOW!”

She painfully pulled herself over to the ledge, peering down to see Jafar in the street below, practically foaming at the mouth, uncaring of the death stares he was getting.

“Jay, I think it’s for you,” Mal dryly told him, only giving the sprawling boy a cursory glance.

“Can’t I just take a message?” came the muffled whine.

“NOW, BOY! _**NOW**_!”

“I think it’s urgent,” she continued to tell him in a disinterested voice.

“Fine.” He huffed, heaving himself up, sliding down the ledge, before turning to face her, gripping the rock beneath him. “We’ll continue this another time. I was winning.”

“Pffft, as if. But no, next time it’ll be swords.” Mal scoffed, crossing her arms.

“But you always win!”

“Exactly. You need practice.”

“Ugh. Fine. See ya, Terror.” He dropped the subject like he promptly dropped himself, along with her heart.

But that didn’t stop her from yelling at him, “I told you not to call me that!”

Though she went ignored, and she watched him, her chin on her crossed arms resting on the ledge, as he rolled off the huge trash can into the alley.

She hummed at the wave he threw her behind his back, as he deflected his father’s yelling with that infuriating easy going grin on his face.

Mal turned away, pocketing the pebbles on the other side of the roof, leaving him to deal with his demon as she thought about dealing with hers.

Pfft, she’d rather poke Scar with a sharp, pointy stick or chuck stones at his eye. Maybe his left one, even.

_You know what, I’ll just go do that. Though I’m keeping the rocks. Better look for a stick. And sharpen it myself._


	2. Pawful Chase

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like a fandom that likes puns a bit too much. And I already liked them. Oh, well.

 

“SCRAM!”

 

This was _not_ what Evie signed up for when her best friend told her they were going to be busy today with that typical infernal smirk of hers. _Without_ Carlos and Jay.

 

_‘It’ll be fun E.' ‘They’re idiots anyway E.' ‘It’ll be a piece of unrotted cake E.’_

_Fun, she said. Yes, Mal, I’m having **infinite** amounts of fun, _ Evie puffed, completely unladylike as she did something her Mother would be appalled at. She sweated. While she ran away.

 

_‘Royalty do not run like cowards Evelyn. We glide. Nor do we do something as unsightly as shed fluids.’_

_NOT THE TIME FOR YOUR BULLSHIT, MOTHER!_

“Never again, Mal! Never again!” Evie used her last few remaining breaths to scream at her _idiot_ of a best friend.

“Aw, lighten up, E,” the asshole had the nerve not to look tired, wicked grin flashing sharp teeth – almost fangs – at her, “it’s only a pussy cat.” Malice flashed in her dancing, flashing green eyes.

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME, YOU INSOLENTE PESTE!”

Evie pushed herself harder, running faster, because while last time she was able to turn him into a Scaredy Cat, he wasn’t enraged like he was now. She preferred not to take her chances. More cautious than her _idiot_ of a best friend, who was straying too close to becoming an ex.

“I thought kitties were supposed to have good hearing,” Mal taunted over her shoulder, smirk widening, face filled with glee.

This time he didn’t answer in words but in one drawn out, deafening, resounding _ROAR_.

“Would you do me a favor and shut up!” Evie hissed at Mal, too short of breath for even that.

“Ah, no worries Princess. Enraged animals can’t normally see very well.”

“Lets not test that with our lives, Mal! This is _not_ what I had in mind when you said we have plans!”

“Aw, you’re not having fun?” Mal pouted at her, her unfairly cute face turned her way as she automatically dodged debris and clutter, the bitch not even puffing, happy as you please.

“I’m doing something my Mother would kill me for!”

“What?” Mal asked, face falling a little, voice hitching higher in concern.

“Sweating!” Her heart beat even faster, though she attributed that to the straining run.

Mal’s face turned unamused, eyes lidding in annoyance. “Exercise is good for you, E.”

“Mother. Kill. Me.” Evie huffed at her. It wasn’t her fault she was trapped in a castle for ten blasted years. _Of course_ she couldn’t exercise, especially around Mother.

“Ugh, alright. Just hold on tight.”

Evie didn’t have the time or energy to decipher that cryptic response. Not that Mal let her, as she found her feet swept from under her.

“MAL!” Evie squealed from the safety of Mal’s arms, as she carried her and sprinted away.

“Shush,” Mal told her quietly, eyes straight ahead.

“Mal! Put me down!” But even as she protested, Evie slung her arms around her neck, scared that she’d be dropped.

“It’s faster this way. It’d be even faster if you stopped complaining.” Mal’s eyes swept to all sides, squinting.

Evie opened her mouth to give her a piece of her mind, but as she looked over her shoulder, it snapped shut, her eyes widening as she saw the considerable distance now between them and Scar.

She turned back around, not wanting to see if he would match their speed and catch up, her mouth forming a little moue as she saw the rundown scenery pass even faster, barely even feeling jostled as Mal sped up, cutting through the crowd and sending them into a scattered mess that would hopefully confuse Scar and slow him down.

She tightened her grip on purple, winged, studded shoulders as Mal suddenly veered to the right, slipping through shadows, steps confident and sure, obviously knowing their destination.

They cut through narrow streets that would be harder on the lion to navigate, going left and right and right and left and left and… if _she_ was getting dizzy from all the turns, hopefully that overgrown furball would be too.

She was very tempted to ask her ride where they were going, but if they were able to lose their hunter even a little, it was probably best that she didn’t give them away with her voice.

She screwed her eyes shut as the wind whipped at her face, Mal somehow going even _faster_ before she felt a tilt to the right, Mal veering there and slowing down a tad.

Evie cracked her eyes open just a smidge, seeing that they were in a tight alley with a dead end. She sucked in her breath ready to warn her, but she tightened her arms, likely cutting off Mal’s circulation as she felt her make a high jump, somehow landing soundlessly on top of a big, dented, rusted trash box that smelled like it was the trash of the island of trash, reeking of decay and mold.

It was making her gag, though Mal quickly jumped over to the roof above it before she could actually expel the meager food she was able to stomach today, taking them on still silent feet away from the ledge, gently setting her on her feet before she pulled Evie to the side facing the streets.

She sucked in a breath, wanting to yell at her, but Mal put a finger over her own lips as she clasped her hand over her nose and mouth, suffocating her a bit, but quieting Evie’s still heavy breathing, taking periodic peeks over the ledge.

They both remained tense for several long minutes, before Mal finally unfurled, letting out a near soundless sigh and removing her hand from Evie’s mouth.

“The garbage smell should probably fool him, but we should get moving just in case,” her voice was quiet, still conscious of the danger.

“Why’d you throw that rock at him anyway! Don’t you know never to wake the sleeping lion,” Evie hissed, her chest still heaving, her heartrate slowing down, though that didn’t calm her anger a bit.

“It was fun,” it was said with a wicked flash of too white, sharp teeth – they really did look like fangs – and a shrug.

“Fun.” She crossed her arms, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Plus, didn’t you hear. Cats loved to play with yarn.”

“What?” Evie dropped her arms, her voice still quiet but hesitant.

“Come on.” Mal stood up, sticking out her hand and helping her up, guiding her over the rooftop.

“Where are we going?”

“I know he was keeping some yarn from the barges that he would definitely not need. I thought you’d like it. You’re always complaining about being short on supplies,” Mal said nonchalantly, not even looking at her as she helped her down to the lower connected roofs, not taking them to the streets just yet.

“Mal.” Evie froze, pulling Mal into a stop by their clasped hands, so incredibly touched, staring with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.

“What?” Though maybe she shouldn’t have stared too much as discomfort pulled Mal’s body taut and made her cross her arms as she looked away.

“Nothing.” Evie couldn’t help the beaming smile that flashed her teeth, taking hold of Mal’s hand again and tugging at it, wordlessly telling her to lead the way.

And as was happening more lately, her gesture was understood, her best friend resuming her role as guide, unaware or unwilling to look at the soft eyes and gentle smile Evie kept fixed on her back.

If they really did find that yarn, maybe she could knit a purple scarf or even a black one. If it were blue she’d find an excuse to make Mal wear it.

For some reason, the thought of Mal wearing her color made her breathing hitch, palms sweaty in that safe warm grip.

 

“How were you even able to carry me, run that fast and jump that high? All together even. You shouldn’t have been able to.”

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you. Now, shush, we don’t want to get caught.”

“ _Really,_ Mal?”

“Shh.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish
> 
> Insolente peste: insolent pest  
> If i have that wrong i would appreciate the correction


End file.
